I love to take pictures. My camera comes with me anywhere that might be interesting. I love to look through my pictures, to go back to the past.
But you can’t take a picture of everything.
You can take a picture of someone climbing a tree, but you can’t capture that moment of accomplishment when you make it to the top.
You can take a picture of that girl sitting on a log sticking out above a creek, her legs crossed, her eyes staring off into the distance, but you can’t capture the feeling of sitting there thinking.
You can’t capture how exhausted you are after working on shoe boxes for eight hours
That proud feeling of surviving your audition
The wind in your face, blowing your hair
Your friend encouraging you to keep going
That much needed hug
How scared you were when there was someone else in that woods, not knowing who it was
Snowflakes falling on your face
Giggling with your best friend
Crying into your pillow late at night
When your foot misses the loop on the swing and goes all the way through, dragging your hair through the mud
That huge misunderstanding that happens when you try to tell someone something
When you survive something really hard
Doing your dance steps correctly for the first time
Cartwheels in the front yard
Wading through the creek, splashing around with joy
When you have been waiting for a book for forever, and when the library says that your book is at the library and you get there, and they lost it
When you found out that the library is closing for two months
How much you just want to go outside, and you can’t because you are sick
When you finish making yourself a dress
Being lost in the woods, hundreds of miles from home
When your friends abandon you
Hiding in the woods writing
Late night talks with cousins
How overjoyed you are when the first flowers of spring finally open
How happy you are to do something nice for someone else
You can take pictures, but you can’t capture everything.
I’m starting to wonder if what you can capture really matters at all.